Sweeter Than Sin (7 page)

“That was a lot of fun.”

Rita’s voice was low and throaty—she had the voice of a porn star. Normally, all he had to do was guide his mind in that direction and he could be ready to do all sorts of dirty things with her.

She didn’t have a memorable face—actually, she did. She had a long face, her mouth just a little too wide, her eyes a little too deep set, and her brow was too heavy. Rita wasn’t particularly attractive, but she was a fucking fire in bed and most nights, when the demons were too strong, he’d be more than happy to let her chase those demons away. And he’d help chase hers away. He had no doubt the demons were going to be bad tonight.

A hand brushed down his spine and he glanced over as Rita leaned against him, her cheek against his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to be alone with myself tonight, Adam.”

Guilt twisted inside him.

He didn’t want to be alone with himself, either.

But he didn’t want to go home with Rita.

He was a lousy miserable son of a bitch, too. Alone was the last thing she needed, and he understood that.

She was an unselfish lover and she gave all of herself in bed, asking nothing. Adam, however, asked for a hell of a lot, gave next to nothing, and sex was just a way to drive the demons from his mind. He didn’t really even enjoy it anymore, but if it blanked out his mind and relaxed his body that was all he needed.

Rita knew his heart wasn’t involved in anything.

That made it easier.

But as her hand rested low on his hip, he felt nothing. Not even the desire to lose himself with her.

He could bring himself to do it, though.

She’d had a lousy night.

She didn’t need to be alone.

As she slid her hand down and cupped his through his jeans, Adam pressed his mouth to her neck.

Nothing.

Rita sighed and her hand fell away.

“Not tonight, huh?”

A vise gripped his throat and he reached up, skimmed his palm down her back. “I can come over for a little while. We can watch a movie.” And he lied through his teeth as he bent over and pressed his mouth to her collarbone. “Maybe I’m just tired and you can wake me up.”

She snorted, the sound full of cynicism and humor. “If you’re that tired, you’re probably close to dead. Nah, I’m probably lousy company anyway. I’ll just go home, get wasted—” Then she grimaced. “Sorry. That’s was stupid of me.”

“Nah. It’s human. After the day we’ve had, I feel like getting wasted myself. Your day was a lot worse than mine.”

He eyed the bottles, gleaming like a rainbow behind the counter.

“Why do you do this?” she asked, her voice quiet. And he knew she knew. She could tell that it was on him again, the urge to reach for one of those bottles.

One drink … just one …

Yeah. Right.

“It’s just what I do.” He shrugged and turned away, finished up behind the bar. “Besides, it’s a reminder.”

Now that the bar was empty, he could name names, but he didn’t have to.

Rita had been forced to pry the keys from Geoffrey Potter earlier, a man who’d been a teacher at the school, once upon a time. A good one, too. Now he was lucky that he could hold a job at the Walmart, and if he got caught driving drunk one more time, he’d lose his license.

Another regular had stumbled out the door earlier. Eddie McKenna. Once Eddie had been so shit faced, he’d walked
into
the door and busted his head wide open. Old Eddie had started drinking after his wife decided she’d rather be with a lady from her book club. Not just discussing books, either. Only she didn’t want a divorce. She liked the insurance, and since she wasn’t going to marry her new girlfriend, why shouldn’t she stay married? And then she moved her new girlfriend into the house where she lived with Eddie … into the bedroom, while Eddie was moved up into the bedroom they’d once planned to use as a room for the kids they’d never been able to have.

Eddie didn’t have the balls to just file for divorce on his own, so he drowned his sorrows in the booze.

Adam understood all about that. He’d spent years drowning his sorrows and he’d have continued to do just that if he hadn’t lost his parents. They wanted him sober. After they’d died in a car wreck, the one thing he could give them was that last wish. So he sobered up—going on fifteen years since he’d had a drink and damn if he still didn’t have to fight it.

Those who had never had to fight that fight wouldn’t understand. But Adam understood it, all too well. Instead of drowning himself in alcohol, he lost himself in work, in women and in a long, exhausting workout five or six days a week. He worked about sixty hours a week, and if he wasn’t working he was very often running or pummeling a heavy bag … or fucking a woman.

What little free time he had aside from that was spent in front of a computer where he moderated, anonymously, a board for the kids here in Madison. Those who might, or already did, feel the urge to do the same stupid shit he had. Numb themselves with alcohol. Sometimes he felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite, because if he hadn’t lost his folks, he knew he’d still be burying himself in the bottle at the end of the day. Who was he to tell anybody to stay sober, that life didn’t get any easier behind a haze of alcohol?

But then something happened.

He’d made a difference.

Finally.

After twenty years of being a miserable fuckup, he’d finally made a difference.

Yeah, mostly because Blue—

Blue.

Blue … that poor kid. Blue had been a hero that night. Too bad nobody had been around to save him. Just how bad things had gotten for Kevin Blue, Adam didn’t know.

But Glenn Blue, his father, had been arrested. Bail had finally been granted, but after he’d tried to talk to his son it was revoked and Glenn was back in jail.
He ought to rot there.

Him and the rest of the bastards.

Thanks to Blue’s quick thinking, two lives had been saved a few weeks earlier and seven monsters were under investigation.

One was in the ground. Jeb. Monstrous, miserable excuse of a human being. Jeb Simms had worn a badge, pretended he was here to protect the people of this town, and look at what he’d done.

Then he’d put a bullet through his brain. Too easy, really.

But at least he was dead, dead and buried, just like the rest of them should be.

If Adam had his way, they’d all be in the ground.

“Knowing everything we know anymore…”

He caught the sad, bitter tone of Rita’s voice and he looked up, forcing his own thoughts back to the present.

She wasn’t looking at him, though. She stared out the window at the empty street; her slim fingers worried the necklace she wore. “I don’t want to be here, Adam.”

“Rita, if you need to take time off, just—”

“No.” She shook her head, and finally she looked over at him. “I don’t mean work. I just mean everything.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. “Rita, come on now.…”

“No.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. There’d been a time when that would have sent interest humming through him, even if it was just ingrained, like his body had been trained to react to a female. Now all he wanted to do was study her face, her eyes, make sure she wasn’t planning to do something stupid. She moved away, though, evading him. With a smile, she shrugged. “I’ll be all right, sugar. I’m just morbid these days. Too much going on. The talk with Jensen. Everything I had to tell her about my dad. I’m just depressed, I guess.”

He closed the distance between them. “You come to me,” he said, reaching up to cup her face. He knew what it was like, to swing so low, it seemed like you’d never climb out of the hole you were in. “You hear me? If things get too rough and you need to talk, you come to me.”

She reached up and patted his cheek.

“Sure, Adam.”

*   *   *

Sooner or later, he’d stop worrying about her, he told himself.

It was nearly three, and Adam had yet to reach that point.

His mind was still spinning and his muscles were bunches of coiled knots and he couldn’t shut down.

It wasn’t just Rita, though.

It was everything.

The fire.

That awful, terrible discovery when he’d learned what was going on with Blue and the others.

And Lana.

Always Lana.

Sometimes those memories were a scream in the back of his head.

Other times just a devil’s whisper.

See … I saw what you did there. I remember, even if you try to forget. You had a chance, and you could have saved her. She called you, but because you were trying to be somebody you’re not, you failed her. And look what happened—

His lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl and that night spun through his head all over again.

*   *   *

“… ’s this…” Adam kept his face buried in the pillow, because he was almost positive it was a wrong number and he wasn’t going to exert himself over that.

“… help.”

The voice, low and raw, cut through the fog of sleep. Slowly, he pulled the pillow off his head, his attention focusing on the voice, so faint, as she whispered his name: “Adam, are you there?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it as he flopped over on his back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Lana?”

“Yes.” Her voice, still shaking, came over the phone. For once, he didn’t have to think about how her voice undid him. She was still just a kid, in school. Three years younger than him, in high school, and she had a boyfriend.… He had no business noticing her, but he did; he’d always noticed her even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Then he’d thought maybe it wasn’t so awful for him to notice her. She was older. Seventeen wasn’t really a kid anymore, right? He was twenty. It wasn’t like he was looking to run off with her. Just ask her out, maybe. Except it wasn’t going to happen now.

She went and found herself somebody else.

Noah, of all people. Straight and true Noah.

There wasn’t anybody nicer than that boy, and while envy ate at Adam, she still called him up, chatted with him, like they were friends, just as they’d always been.

Trying not to let anything he felt show in his voice, he sighed. “Fuck, what time is it?”

If she’d had a fight with Noah, Adam was going to have blue balls again. All night. Because she’d want to come over, or meet somewhere, so she could curl up against him, not crying, just sitting there, where he could feel the warmth of her, the soft curve of her tits, smell her hair and her skin—

Fuck.
He was going to have another one of those dreams, and the next time he saw her his dick would be hard as a rock.

“Adam, I need to talk to you,” she whispered.

He shot a look at the clock, sitting up and hanging his legs over the edge of the bed. The bare wood was cool against his feet and he blew out a breath as he saw the digital clock. Midnight.
Hell.
“Lana, it’s already past twelve.”

“I…” Her voice quavered, steadied. “I know. I wanted to call Noah, but his parents would answer.”

“And what’s the problem there?” Adam asked, jealousy chewing through him. Noah. Yeah, that nice PK she was dating … that preacher’s kid probably didn’t think about the sort of things that Adam did. Noah treated her a hell of a lot better than Adam ever could, too. Would be able to do more for her. So why did Adam hate the thought of them together? Because
he
loved her. Had always loved her.

“I can’t talk to anybody but Noah. I don’t want his folks to know—” Her voice broke off, catching on a sob.

Worry started to burn in Adam.

Okay.
There was a problem here—a big one. He needed to yank his head out of his ass. “Lana, what the hell is going on? Are you in trouble? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“Adam, I … I’m in trouble—”

There was another voice in the background, deep and low. A man’s voice.

That worry turned into a full-scale alarm and then the phone went dead.

Shoving upright, Adam stared at it, his heart racing.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered.

Dashing the back of his hand over his mouth, he tried to think through the past few minutes, replay the conversation out in his head, stripping away what
he
had been thinking, and focus on what she had said.

Call the police,
he thought. That was what he needed to do. He’d call the police, then head over to her dad’s place across the street. Jim Rossi didn’t much like him—he had a feeling the old man knew Adam had a thing for his daughter—but something fucked up was going on.

Reaching for the clothes he’d discarded, he replayed that conversation one last time.

She’d sounded—

“Scared,” he whispered.
Yeah. She sounded scared.
He mentally braced himself to make that phone call. She was going to be pissed, but he didn’t care. If she was scared, there was a problem and Lana could hate him, but he’d do what he had to do to make sure she was okay.

The phone started to ring before he could pick it up.

He didn’t even have it to his ear when he heard her voice.

“Forget I called,” Lana said, her voice cool and remote, a thousand miles away from what it had been only a moment ago.

“What?”

“Just forget I called. Don’t tell anybody and if you…” She stopped and sighed. “Look. I have to leave. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I may
not
be back. You’re probably going to hear some things, see some things. Nothing you hear is going to be true, but I need your word you won’t say anything about me calling tonight. No matter what.”

“I don’t think so,” he bit off. Now the worry was a scream in his head and he clutched the phone so tight, it bit into his hand. “I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on, Lana.”